A Reluctant Junketeer
by voodjoo
Summary: A young Troll meets a not-so-nice Warlock.
1. Chapter 1

"Dat ting ya want most, ya oft need dey leest"

Vol'jin

The meandering line of amber colored ants marched high above him.

Zebu sighed heavily and tried once more. _Dat one_, he murmured softly to himself, _Turn_ _turn…_ _turn…_ _ya dinker!_ The tiny ant continued onward, ignoring his efforts, and eventually disappeared along with others into a small fissure in the rock ceiling.

Lying on his back in his rumpled bed, Zeb frowned at his latest failure. Since he was young, he'd often felt an odd mental connection with other living things but never before had he attempted to actually use it to manipulate them. Yesterday's conversation with his mentor Drekkal had changed that forever, and now the idea would not leave his mind.

"No matta," he said out loud with a determined smile cresting his face. "I can do dis… tomorrow mebbe I get it."

The young blue-skinned troll rolled over on one side and eyed his surroundings. The Skete was ancient, having been built by many laboring monks over the last thousand or so years. Carved by sweat and muscle and fueled by religious conviction, it had been hewn from the nearby mountaintop. The retreat rested deep in a southern Kalimdor valley far off the main road that cleaved the continent in two and was a most uncomfortable place to be. The days stretched long and hot, the lessons and chores never ending, as the thirteen monks and one High Priest scratched out a meager existence from the lower Barrens. Seeking spiritual atonement, they rarely mingled with outsiders and to some, it became as much a prison as it was a home. Scarce were any visitors as the nearest outpost, Camp Taurajo, was forty or so miles away. It offered limited goods to the monks when needed but they chose to exist in solitude as they inched their way closer to The Light, one long hot sweaty day after another.

But it was _home…_

He remembered the desperate look on the villager's face as he stood small and terrified beside her. The lone traveler had been passing by what remained of their village soon after the band of raiders had finished the razing. Curled bodies still smoldered like blackened husks of tortured agony and his mother and father lay unrecognizable amongst them, leaving the elderly woman little choice. Her dirty hands were shaking with emotion as she transferred Zebu into the rough, calloused grasp of the monk. No words were exchanged as he settled the boy gently into the nest of hay, then turned his stone-carved face back to the donkey and clucked softly to it. Zeb remembered the haunting laugh of a nervous hyena in the distance as the cart slowly rolled away from the old troll. She failed to return his wave goodbye as they passed from her view, perhaps knowing full well she was never to see him again.

The hushed sound of cloth-bound footsteps in the hallway outside reminded him that the day was starting and his duties beckoned. Tinged lightly with the guilt of sleeping in when others had not, he prepared himself a for day of atonement in return for the blessing of humility the ants had taught him earlier. His relationship with the spirit was somewhat unique compared to the others here. He believed deeply in the Light and followed those around him in seeking its blessing, yet never once could he truthfully admit that he'd actually _felt_ it touch him as others had. "Mebbe it be havin the same problem as me," Zebu thought with a rueful smile as he watched another ant disappear into the small crack above his bed. "Or mebbe I jus need to listen a lee'l more."

His dirty feet slapped the floor in unison causing motes of dust to rise in the bright sunlight streaming through the open window. Cleanliness and holiness had obviously become strangers to each other in his tiny abode. The piles of codices, scrolls and various odd objects he'd found while exploring the countryside littered about but tomorrow would be there to clean it all up eventually. Stretching both arms high in the air, he squealed a small squeak of happiness then reached for his robe...

and realized he was quite hard.

The shamefulness of what transpired last week blossomed his face bright purple.

"Vendel'o eranu! What foolishness are you doing, Zebu?" The undertone in Gi'Alduk's voice was very clear. Zeb cringed as he turned to face the Elder, his cock shrinking in his still-stroking grip as the erection subsided quicker than it had arrived.

"I'm sorry," he started with an uncertain smile. "I was just…just relieving myself." Zeb looked into Gi's face for understanding.

The High Priest glowered at him and spoke back darkly in perfect Thalassian. "Zabra Hexx would not wish you to spew your worthless seed upon our hallowed ground. Your incessant need to _relieve_ yourself is a sign of weakness and nothing but ruin and further separation from his guidance will ever come from it. Learn to control your baneful urges or you will be set free to wander the barrens alone. I task you to learn the true meaning of the word abstinence. Giving in to your _pukku_ and its so called 'need' is a sign that you have not learned much of anything in the short years you have been here."

He added after a short pause," ...and _nothing_ good will ever come forth from that thing between your legs when it's awakened for your own pleasure."

Gi'Alduk swirled about, his robes twisting vainly to follow his abrupt end to the conversation and he vanished as soundlessly as he had arrived.

A warm drop of pre-cum ran slowly over his trembling fingers before he could unclench his flaccid cock. Never before had Zebu felt so embarrassed. The Order had made it clear as he arrived at age that sexual activity of any manner was inappropriate while he was training to be a Holy Priest but he was at that frightful period in life when the damn thing most often times had a mind of its own.

Swearing another new vow, he promised himself he would never again succumb to his fleshly desires and prayed for the control he needed over his innermost urges.

His cock twitched amidst his drifting thoughts, bringing his attention back to the present. Perhaps it was a sign that it too had been listening to his vow of chastity, but more likely it was due to the pressing need of his near-full bladder. Zebu donned his tattered and dusty adept's robe and headed out of his room determined to conquer the images that filled his mind.

"Light's Will to you young Zebu."

Zeb squinted up to see Drekkal standing over him. The noon sun beating downwards with relentless presence had caused drops of sweat to litter the ground where Zeb was crouched.

"Zebu." he stated quietly. "What binds you with such fascination of these simple creatures? Are you seeking the purpose of their existence?" The lone ant at Zebu's foot crawled up curiously up onto one of Zeb's toes and carefully inspected something crusty and yellow at the juncture of his toenail, oblivious to the discussion above.

The boy shook his head gently once to answer no. Beads of sweat flew about in all directions erupting in the dry dust below like tiny explosions.

"Dey not be listening to my thoughts, I've tried over and over."

"Thoughts? What makes you think dey could do that?" The older Troll looked slightly puzzled as he squatted down as well and peered closer at Zebu.

Zeb smiled when he heard the inner troll come out in his mentor's sentence. The adepts were instructed to communicate with precise and grammatically correct words, "To purify our nearness with the Light," said The High Priest whenever he corrected someone he overheard speaking troll "Once dey troll… all-waays dey troll" was the inner joke that circulated amongst the monks whenever the Elder was away.

_Dey words dey jus flow off da tongue bettah_, Zeb thought as he peered back down at the ant once more.

"Tell me Drekkal, if I could find a new way to shine the Light into _all_ creatures, even ones that cannot speak as we do, would that bring pleasure to The High Priest?"

Drekkal laughed gently at the seriousness of the young troll. "Yes Atal-child, that concept would most clearly meet with his approval. Maybe my son, you have found the entrance to the path upward that you have been seeking."

"So if I…if I _made_ them understand the way that would be ok?" Zebu snuck a sideways glace at the monk trying to gauge his next reaction.

"Zebu, you cannot truly _make_ another being do anything other than by trickery, coercion, force or duress. They must choose the path to righteousness of their own volition in order to be bathed by its eternal knowledge. We can lead them yes, but the steps to reach it taken must be by their own two feet." He looked down at the ant waving its tiny antenna at him. "…or six."

"But what if I could _convince_ them from within their own thoughts that the Light is truly the answer to all questions?"

The face next to his darkened immediately

"What is this vile idea you speak of?" Drekkal reached out and tipped the young troll's chin upwards with a sharp tilt until Zebu's eyes were forced to look directly into the monk's.

"What you be tempting, Zebu?" The concern was clear in his voice. "Tell me ya not be usin dat black magic wit'in ya now?" Drekkal stared carefully at Zeb, searching for the lie to surface.

"No mon, it not be dere," Zebu said with open honesty. But he also added within his own thoughts, ..._yet_.

The older troll paused for a moment before dropping his hand from the boys chin. "Good thing then. I would hate someday soon to find you deep in the belly of something out there." He pointed at the plains beyond the outer wall surrounding the grounds. "Ya be too damn skinny ta feed any ting good anyways. Dat magic is never ta be used eben if ya could. Evil it be and never could good tings be rise'n from it's use."

Drekkal turned and started off towards the Chapel. Before he had gone two steps he spun back suddenly and said sharply to Zebu. "No more of this from you ever Zeb, promise me that right now!"

Zebu nodded in agreement, but his heart was pounding heavily with the knowledge he'd just learned.

…it _could_ be done!"

The older Troll shook his head with valid concern as he left the boy squatting in the hot sun. He remembered being at that age with so much to learn still brightening the horizon each day. "May the Light gift you well young Zebu and guide you gently upwards with its wisdom," he prayed quietly as he strode towards the inner courtyard. "…and the strength to resist what may beckon to us all as well."

Zebu's many chores still to finish hastened the hours of the day. While cleaning the stable of manure, Zeb couldn't resist reaching out with his mind towards the nearest donkey and probing it. He found the stubby equine's center quite easily and if pressed by anyone who wondered, he would have described it as a purple orb that ambled happily about. The orb pulsed slightly as he circled it with his own mind. Closing his eyes to concentrate further, Zeb pushed his thoughts forward until the flat taste of stale hay erupted so strongly within his own mouth that it caused him to spit awkwardly, the drool thread hanging from his lips and sticking to his robe. The donkey lifted its fuzzy ears at him then, a quizzical look adorning its face, making the boy wonder if it too had felt the brief connection. Or maybe it was just the clumsy act of spitting that caused Abby's subsequent reaction. Either way, the taste of warm chewed grass lingered heavily in Zebu's taste buds, bringing revulsion as well as elation to his thoughts.

_I can do this!_ But remembering Drekkal's harsh warning, he stifled the overwhelming urge to jump back into the donkey's mind. _...as long as I don't get caught!_

The evening bell called Zebu back to the kitchen. The monks commonly ate each meal alone in their rooms and some, chosen by their abilities (or more often the inability of others), would prepare supper for the rest. Zebu being the youngest was tasked with cleaning up afterwards. The mess was never much but it added one last chore for him to do each night before heading to his room. He'd found the kitchen in its usual state of mild disorder and quickly busied himself within it, but his thoughts were far away from his actions as he scrubbed the pots and plates clean with handfuls of dry sand. Afterwards, he grabbed a leftover roll and a flask of lukewarm water to tide the growling coming from his stomach.

As the hyenas outside began announcing their growing excitement over the evening hunt, Zebu found his way back to his room in the gathering darkness and pulled aside the worn leather flap that covered the opening. Lighting his lone candle against one that guttered away in the hallway, he drew the flap closed again, allowing himself a small modicum of privacy, and tossed his tattered robe onto the nearby table. The bare candle threw dancing shadows of impostured magic against the wall beside him as he lay naked on his back in bed. The cool katabatic breeze filtering in through the window sent gentle eddies of air across his bare loins.

…his member stirred with need once again.

Zeb attempted to shift his thoughts elsewhere but as the blood pooled heavier in his cock and the skin became increasingly taut, he watched with quiet fascination as it grew before his eyes. The building pressure within continued until it rose gracefully off his flat stomach with tiny ratchet-like movements, each timed perfectly to his thudding heartbeat and it eventually pointed at him like an accusatory finger. He desperately looked about for any diversion in his tiny room but as his heart pumped his cock thicker, his attempts became meager. His hand drifted downward, fingertips tracing lightly along his chest…then his stomach and as they softly touched his cock, his palm encircled it with gentle familiarity. The hand began its stroking…slowly at first then quickly transitioning into a rapid blur. His hips lifted higher off the mattress until he finally turned and buried his face into the bed to muffle his joy. A gust of cooler air rushed in through the window just as he climaxed causing him to release harder than usual. The hot cum splattering his neck and chest with droplets of wet pleasure reminded him that his flesh was not just his own weakness…but very much also his to own.

As sleep chased him down with ponderous arms, his eyes drew upwards once again to the ants above and he smiled as they moved along oblivious to his moment.

"Tas'dingo my leetle ones…"

Tomorrow was coming soon and it promised to be a very busy one.


	2. Chapter 2

Ill Manners…

Sindath drummed her fingers along the lines creasing his forehead in an irritated manner.

"What we have here before us is a wonderful example of the _perfect_ fail." She paused and drew a dramatic sigh. Her gaze passed over the group of Warlocks gathered before her chair in a misshapen semicircle before dropping back to the man's face in her lap. "I asked you to complete a most simple task, a task that anyone else might do without much effort and yet you have not. Was I unclear with my direction? Perhaps I was vague with my desire?" She looked back up again at the group as though puzzled. The room stayed fearfully silent as they shifted back and forth on their feet, each hoping someone else would respond to her gently baited question.

A slashed cut of auburn flavored hair framed her countenance as she furthered her stare from one to another. Her dark lips thinned as she eventually smiled, but her eyes remained like blackened pools of icy water. Her body was frighteningly attractive, full of curves which the Warlock leader used at will for any gain she might think attainable. She allowed her manner and attire to encourage the attention of others as over her many years, it had become a reliable and useful way to get most anything she wanted from the weak. Her only physical flaw one might say, was her stature. She was short for a human, perhaps five foot two on a good day, so the long slender heels of her boots became tools of necessity in allowing her gaze to equally meet her many foes.

She had absolutely no friends.

"Anyone?" she asked the Coven again, her voice becoming sharp with the implication of irritation. She looked down at the man's face in her lap and her fingers stopped their incessant tapping. "What about you then? Why did _you_ do as you _chose_ and not as I wished?

"I know whyyyyyy…" Sin dragged out the word for its effect on the others. "You decided to be _nice_ for a change and think about someone else and how they might _feel_ didn't you?"

She reached down and pulled his eyelids harshly open with her fingers and leaned her head to peer directly into his eyes. "You've failed me once too many Malthir, and _failure_ will not become part of my future." The group before her stood ill at ease. Not one dared to move as she continued on with her diatribe. "So let your lesson today be one of trust…I trust you to do as I say, but if you choose not," she raised her face to the Coven and looked at each before continuing on with an angry hiss "…then trust that you will suffer the same fate as he."

She lifted the severed head out of her lap by its blood-slick hair and held it high before her with one arm. The appendage dripped a thin coagulating mixture of fluid onto her crotch but she cared little. Turning the object from side to side, she admired her morning's work before releasing it with a wet pulpy noise onto the body at her feet.

"Feed him to that damned Sewer Beast..." She said to no one in particular and then stood from her chair. Wiping her hands on the dead man's robe, she strode forward through her disciples causing them to scatter without a word.

_That went fairly well…_ she reflected as she left the room. _It's a bloody shame however, he was such a good fuck._

The Warlocks occupied the lowermost area under the Slaughtered Lamb in Stormwind City. Dank and dark with years of previous occupation, it had become _hers _as of late. As she climbed the long series of stone hewn steps on her way up to the surface, she admired the various and gruesome trinkets of battle that lined the passageway, portraying their success as the city's leading sect. Most people feared her small group of 'locks, as through the years they had made numerous enemies within the city and even more outside. Yet still, they performed a rank purpose of sorts, a malevolent force of dark magic that could be useful to the Alliance when needed. As she neared the top of the steps, a young courier stood waiting, his trembling hands clutching a scroll tied perfunctorily with a wide azure ribbon. She stared at the boy for a moment, watching the fear of her presence force his eyes down to her feet.

"Do you _really_ think it's wise to be bothering me at this very minute?" she asked with a challenge as he shakingly held out the object to her. His terrified gaze averted quickly from the fresh bloodstains on her hands as she snatched the parchment from his grasp. She rolled her eyes in exasperation of his weakness.

"Be off then you muted fool." She watched him as he scuttled away. _I grow so tired of them all…like sheep they exist but for what reason other than to shear and butcher?_

The Lamb was empty as usual for the time of the day. Jarel the bartend, leaned against the long wooden counter top looking amused by her recent exchange with the young page.

"Almost made him piss in his poor shorts ya did there..." He continued polishing a beer mug that hadn't been filled in years. "All the poor kid wanted to do was give you that damn scroll."

"Well then, I'm so fucking sorry to disappoint you, but actually I was attempting to make him crap in them." The bitterness in her voice caused the man to shake his head and then turn away to fondle yet another glass with his crusty towel.

Sin cared little about Jarel and his feelings. His purpose to her was somewhat of an early warning system, both by physical attack and plotted means. His overhearing of conversations by those that imbibed often contained information that she found useful, and since the only entrance to the Coven's hold was past the bar, his value as a watchdog had been proven as well. She walked up to the barkeep and stared at the row of empty green bottles that lined the bar's edge before slipping off the bright ribbon from the scroll. The parchment was still soft from manufacture and the words it contained, written with typical grand flourish from the well to do, glistened as though they had been recently inked.

Hail Sindath Allorney, Leader of the Coven, Servant and Defender of the Alliance

...Your immediate presence is commanded before my knee.

His Blessed Majesty, The Glorious King of Stormwind

Varian Wrynn

Sin tapped a finger against her lower lip and pondered the summons. _Why would he use such bluntness?_ Her experience with Varian, or Lo'Gosh as he liked to be called when full of spirits (and himself), was always colored by the grandiose since his return to the throne. Any previous communications from him had been piled with excess verbiage and sprinkled with bullshit. Taking far too long to get to any point, he rambled on even in conversation, never really getting to the gist until one was borderline bored. _This is different...something's afoot._

"Jarel, have you heard any strange-abouts going on in the high and mighty house?" The bartender turned from behind the counter to face her, his mood lightened by her attention.

"Actually I have at that. Seems of late, the King received a post from Ironforge. Rumors have it that he became agitated on its delivery and has been that way since."

"What do your rumor-mongers say the news might be about?" she asked in hopes of further clue, her eyes locked on his face looking for truth before his reply was tendered.

He placed the mug and towel down and leaned over the bar on his elbows until he was close enough for her to smell the stale alcohol on his breath. "It's heard that one of his roaming herds of Librarians discovered a link to something he's been seeking for quite some time. I'm not sure what it was really about, but the scully is that it involved the discovery of written words that harbinger great power."

She watched Jeral's eyes as he spoke, looking for more to his story. Her finger slowly continued its slow tap and she was pleased to see his response turn carnal. _Men were so easy..._

"Well then," she stated with a small voice as she left her mouth slightly open and traced her fingertip along the top of her bottom lip, feeling her warm saliva moisten it as she did so. "I hope you can find me alone somewhere if you hear anything to further that rumor."

The barkeep's face tinged scarlet. "I will Ma'am..I will at that."

She smiled at him as she turned to depart, knowing well his eyes followed her body closely as she strode at _just the right pace_ back down to her domicile. _Like sheep...like fucking sheep_.

An hour later she walked out into the warm sunshine of Stormwind proper. Her attire was a planned array of dark grey spider webbed silk leggings, black knee high leather boots (with heels of course) and waist length black cape draped over her diminutive shoulders. The tight bodice she wore underneath was intentionally short and exposed her entire midriff. The harsh whiteness of it against the dark over clothing drew the looks of male and females alike as she walked with slow purpose towards the Main Keep. Stormwind was alive with travelers, the wide varieties of colorful garb and clamor of foreign dialect made clear the city was truly the capitol of the Alliance. It also made her miss the quiet controlled darkness of her sect. A small five person cluster of heavily armored Draenei resting in the shade watched her slow approach. One lifted its chin politely and offered his throat to her as she came close. The mannerisms of their off-world behaviors had never confused Sindath as it did to so many others. She winked and pursed her lips at the tall broad shouldered male and was pleased to see the resulting quick punch in the ribs from the female Draenei next to him. Her stroll to his Greatness was providing some entertainment at the least.

Passing over one of the many canals, she looked down into the murky green water below and noticed something large and white flash deep under the surface. Sindath's thoughts drifted to the messy issue this morning in dealing with Malthir and his inability to reliably carry out her wishes and realized the experience had affected her sexually. That wonderful sensation as she passed the sharpened blade deep into his bared throat, timed perfectly to the very moment _after_ her cast of Banishment on him had ended so that he could fully experience it along with her. His blood pumping out and flowing downward in slow hot crimson rivulets between her legs, the final twitch of his body as she finished the cut completely and felt the flesh part free...

Her moistened labia passed easily against each other under the tight grasp of the leggings as she walked onward. When she returned to the Coven, she thought pleasantly that she would reward her need. It had been _days_ since she had spoiled herself.

The King's castle was sprawling in size as royalty intended it to be. Decked with requisite parapets, scarlet tiled roofs and adorned everywhere with bright blue and white Alliance banners fluttering silently above in the gentle breeze, it smacked of pomp and reeked of power. As she arrived at the main entrance, the two innermost guards fussed over her, checking the seal twice on her summon and taking more time than necessary as they fawned in her presence. They attempted to act as if it was part of their duties, but who could blame them really? Stuck out in the hot sun all day wishing for someone purposeful to happen by. She allowed a seductive grin in return as they passed their hungry eyes over her body once more and with a flourished turn, they both stepped back into their assigned positions and allowed her to pass. _Always good to have more than one way in a building if needed_ she thought as the corridor ahead became hers. The busy start and stop movement of scribes and pages scurrying about like cockroaches increased in numbers as she drew nearer the King's chamber. Located next to the vast Library, the chamber itself was guarded by elite bodyguards who subsequently proceeded to treat her like some annoying inanimate object. _Sexless bastards!_ Sin pondered if perhaps they all were eunuchs. Her obvious and well-contrived stare at their ornately decorated codpieces failed to evoke any reaction from them whatsoever as the massive doors were finally swung open and the Kings chamber lay exposed for her to penetrate.

The nearby cryer announced in a high monotonic voice, "Sindath Allorney at your request, Your Majesty."

A grunt of acknowledgement from the massive throne allowed the Warlock to step forward. She _hated_ protocol, it was so fucking demeaning to her, but at certain times you had play by their rules in order to keep your own.

"Your Greatness." Sindath bowed as best as she could before King Varian. Making sure to offer him the most ample view of her upper torso possible, she paused for a moment, then raised her eyes only and found him staring out one of the many windows that lined the room.

"You see..." he started on without ever looking at her, "Some things in ones life are much harder to grasp than others, and to me, that makes them all the more worthwhile to possess."

She raised her upper body back up and cocked her hips, added a slightly defiant stance to her manner.

"What, or _who_, Your Majesty, could you so desire that would not immediately be yours to have as you wish?" The Warlock watched his face carefully as her words fell upon his ears. His reaction was not, however, what she had hoped for and she briefly wished she had taken the time to pleasure herself thoroughly before her arrival. He turned to her and smiled a 'Kingly' smile of sorts. It was effaced with sadness though, as her mark had obviously gone wild.

"Your offer is noted. I would advise you that I have found my efforts in that manner somewhat tedious as of late, so no further display of your willingness will be needed." He stood then and walked towards her, obviously enjoying the changing colors on her face. "Let me show you something that might help you understand the real reason why I commanded you here."

They walked back out through the open doors to the Library and Varian paused to allow the expected flurry of bows to occur. His hand flickered once in a benevolent gesture for all to continue onwards and they resumed their journeys back and forth between the various wings of the massive structure.

"What do you see there before you, Sindath?" Varian swept his arm across in an slow arc adding grandeur to his question.

"I see people walking back and forth carrying things in a hurry. They do as they are bid with blind conviction and they do that for reasons I fail to understand."

"Ahh... always the rebel you are dear Sin, and always one I hope you shall be. Let me share with you why I've created such a ruckus of sorts in here. I have been looking for...well, lets just call them puzzle pieces to a larger part of life for quite some time now and recently a very important piece was found that perhaps will allow even more to be discovered. Tell me then, have you ever heard the name Zabra Hexx mentioned in any of your many journeys?"

Sindath's brow furrowed for a moment and then she shook her head back and forth. "I have not."

Varian watched her before and continuing on, "It seems not many have. He was quite the anomaly of our times. The ongoing work here by all these so called blind subjects of mine have found reference to his past. He was a brilliant young priest who residenced in the Scarlet Monastery and found the wisdom of the Light inside." Her eyebrows lifted high as he spoke. "A _Troll_ priest at that..."

The shock on Sindaths face made the King pause to allow her to reflect on his words.

"That doesn't make any..."

"...sense." He finished the sentence for her. "That was my initial thought as well, but after more evidence was unearthed it seems as though Zabra did indeed follow and share the faith that we know is true, and his writings reflect the gift indeed that only the Light could give." Varian turned towards Sindath and studied her carefully before continuing on. "And that is why I bid you here today. I want you and your Coven to travel to the Scarlet Monestery and bring me any remainder of his works."

She blinked once.

"Your Majesty...the Monastery is not an easy place to reach, much less to walk in and have a looksee. Would I be so bold as to assume a large contingent of your forces will accompany us as well?"

The King watched her carefully before he replied.

"No. I do not want the attentions of my intent on display to others. You will do this quietly and you will do this without fail."

She stood reflective for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts. _How the fuck does he think we could ever pull this off? Five Warlocks are just going to waltz right by the fucking Horde infested Undercity and then stroll into a goddamned zealot run mini castle and ask for tea and cookies? and uh, by the way? can we look through everything you have here and take anything we damn well want?_

"And what if I said no?" Her voice was strong despite the fear mounting inside her.

Varian's face broke into a wide smile at her reply.

"I wondered if you might be so bold, and it enlightens my heart that you chose to ask, rather than state, that you might _not_ perform this task for me." He reached his hand out and the nearby page immediately deposited a tattered Vellum into it. The King held it up and peered with faux interest at the writing embodied upon it. "Ah yes, this is the one indeed." He turned it around so that she could see the carefully inked characters upon it.

Sindath felt the small bead of sweat trickle down between her breasts before being absorbed into the warm fabric of her bodice.

"It's the title of deed to the building that houses the Lamb...and my flock." Her voice was flat as she spoke the words. "What does that have to do with your damned Troll?"

The King raised the corner of his mouth slightly before rolling up the leather scroll and handing it back to the waiting page.

"Everything and nothing. If you are successful in finding the things that I seek to possess, then the deed shall become yours to have as well. If however, you bring me nothing but excuses upon your return, then I shall be seeking a new tenant to suckle at the Lambs udders."

Varian turned then, their conversation clearly over, and walked wordlessly back into the throne room without her leave.

She resisted the urge to tremble as the bile of rage rose within her. The doors closing behind him allowed her to move once more her anger brimming full as she walked the long steps back out of the castle.

_The fucking bastard set me up! ...and just how in luck's fuck will I do this crazy thing?_

Jarel looked up as she entered the Lamb. His gaze devoured her movement but wisely this time, his mouth remained shut as she passed by. She felt the coolness of her lair chill the layer of sweat from her return trip as she descended deep into the cellar. Her Coven was still about dealing with her daily orders, so the place was hers alone. The dark quiet allowed her to mind to de-focus as she stripped off the cloak and bodice, leaving only her boots and leggings in place. The damp air caused her areola to pucker and the leftover tension from her chat with Varian shifted from her stomach down to her loins. She used her teeth to work the cork out of a bottle of Cenarian wine and curled into the master's chair in the main meeting room. Swigging hard and long on the bottle, Sin lifted one leg up onto the arm of the chair and reflected on her situation as her fingers traced lightly of their own accord across the hardening tips of her nipples.

_I need to find his weakness..._

She slouched slightly in the oversized chair and felt her hand drop lower, passing across the soft undercurve of her breasts before landing lightly onto her taut belly. The fingers swirled and dipped in various sized circles as her mind continued its process of thought.

_He must have a sin...a ruination...a chink somewhere in his royal fucking armor._

The wine softened her in gentle stages as it filtered slowly into her bloodstream. The warmth between her legs intensified as her fingertips dropped lower still. They passed easily under the band of her leggings and found the soft, well trimmed mane of her mons beneath. Her breath hitched as a straying touch grazed over the budding of her clitoris. The white spark of lust blossomed to flame inside her and soon she felt her legs lifting her pelvis up off the seat while her thumbs hooked the silk leggings downwards.

_I need leverage on him...a tool of sorts...a stick to direct his wheel..._

The bottle wobbled precariously on the arm of the chair as she struggled to remove her leggings completely. Her boots prevented the shedding so soon she became a tangled mess of flushed skin, soft leather and black silk. One hand pulling at her clothing and the other circling her sex in ever shrinking circles, the scent of her need reached her nose and her reaction was inevitable.

_He'd be my puppet...my slave...my very own to steer..._

Her fingers spread outwards in a V and she felt the cool air caress her exposed inner lips. The wetness they created beckoned her slippery passage inside. She grunted as she stroked harder. The smooth walls of her tunnel tightened as she bore down on her digits pumping a frantic pace of release. Her free hand reached over and found the familiar stone nearby which slipped with an icy chill into center of her her grip.

_He will do as I wish...he will be mine to command...._

"Domneth! NOW!" She arched and shuddered as the green stone dissolved into her palm and the swirling deep purple cloud of ethereal magic appeared before her. The Succubus was already kneeling before the calling was complete and her scarlet-rimmed mouth found Sindath as her hands touched the soft flesh of the Warlock's inner thighs. Domneth's tongue snaked out and penetrated her deeply, flicking in and out and side to side. The Succubus devoured her completely as Sin grasped the short horns erupting from the minion's jet black hair and used them to force her hot willing mouth to her very center.

_I shall break him..._

The orgasm found her ready at last, and as the young Succubus satisfied her without pause, Sindath dropped her gasping lips to one arm and muffled a scream as she bucked and rode the demons face for her own pleasure. The waves of climax washed over her in ever lengthening surges until finally she lay spent and weak, her hands still squeezing the hardened horns of her summoned lover.

Sindath look down at her minion and smiled a wicked grin before releasing her grip.

"Get up, we have much yet to accomplish..."


End file.
